Page 48 of Devious Love

Fuck. She’s unbelievable.

Stomach souring, I lock my phone and slip it into my pocket. I set my coffee on the ground and dig my cigarettes from the pocket of my jeans. Just one with my coffee, and then I’ll leave. As I cup my hand around the lighter, the sound of someone moving around the kitchen catches my attention, and I freeze.

“No wonder it’s so cold in here.”

Must be my lucky day. The girl I’m trying to avoid just walked into the kitchen.

“Asshole left the door open all night,” she mutters.

She pushes the screen door open and stands at the threshold. At first, she doesn’t notice me, so I take the opportunity to study her, and my skin instantly turns scorching hot. She’s in a dark red tweed miniskirt and a simple white tee. It fits her like a glove, the fabric tracing every line of her toned abs and her full tits. Fuck, if the sight doesn’t make my cock stir.

I light my cigarette and snap the lighter closed, getting her attention.

Her eyes dart my way, and she staggers back a step. “You scared me,” she hisses, grasping the door handle. “What are you doing out here?”

I take a drag and pick up my coffee. “What does it look like?”

She raises both arms and fixes her high ponytail, unknowingly tempting me to check out her tits again. “Good to know you haven’t completely lost the ability to speak. With how quiet you’ve been the last two weeks, I thought you’d taken a vow of silence.”

I huff a sardonic laugh. “You heard me talking to my dad yesterday.”

“Oh, sorry. I should’ve clarified—I thought you’d taken a vow of silence when it comes to me.”

I smirk. “Maybe.”

“How kind of you.” She turns on her heel and stomps back into the house, closing the door behind her.

I take a long drag of my cigarette, then another one. I take a sip of my coffee, which is already lukewarm. Fuck. I need to leave, but what I really want to do is go into the house and just be near her while no one else is around.

It’s a terrible idea, but when has that ever stopped me?

I hit the back of my head against the wall and let out a sigh. This pull I feel toward her will be the death of me. I put out the cigarette, take one more sip of my coffee, and go inside.

“Why are you up so early?” I ask, leaning my hip against the kitchen counter.

Without replying, she plucks a piece of toast from the toaster.

I trap my bottom lip between my teeth, studying her as she spreads a layer of avocado. Even doing something as simple as making breakfast, she’s full of sass. “Yeah. Every time I look at you, it’s confirmed. It’s the most suitable nickname for you.”

She turns around and stares, butter knife in hand. “You have a nickname for me?”

I nod.

“And what is it?”

I chuckle, feigning ease when inside, I’m flooded with need. “That’s not how it works.”

“What are you talking about?” She drops the knife into the sink then takes her plate to the breakfast bar.

“I asked you a question, and until you answer it, I’m not going to reply to yours.”

She takes a bite of her toast, her focus fixed on me. I wait, because apparently, I’m into mental flagellation when it comes to her.

“My first class is at eight, and I’m meeting up with a classmate beforehand to get started on an assignment for Foundations of Ethics and Diversity.” She lifts her chin. “Your turn.”

“Matt always calls you ‘little one,’ but I don’t think it fits you. I think you’re mayhem. A Little Mayhem.”

“Mayhem?”